As I Lay Me Down To Sleep
by TA Maxwell
Summary: (Songfic) Hotohori's reflections on his life, particularly his relationship with Miaka. Warning: Lota spoilers and overall SAD STUFF. (No more M&Ms for TA after 10:00)


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As I Lay Me Down

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It was warm that day. Surprising, yet not in it's own way. Konan felt like spring already, although winter had barely begun itself. You'd never know. Snow was unheard of in the warm south country of the fire phoenix. It was a day to enjoy, but Hotohori couldn't. She had left him again. Miaka was off on another adventure with all the others, but he had been left alone with the exception of the small stuffed bear the priestess had given him. It sat on his lap now, out in the imperial gardens. The button eyes stared up at him, a special gleam reminding him even more of the playful personality of his treasured priestess. It seemed like only yesterday they had met for the first time, her trudging gleefully across the palace square, licking her fingers of the last remnants of what would have been his own lunch. The same birds were singing the same tune as that day. The day that had started this mess. The day he had let himself fall in love with the one woman he could never have.

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It felt like springtime on this February morning 

In the courtyard birds were singing your praise 

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And now so many months had passed. The summoning had failed, but Suzaku still had another chance. The seven gathered seishi would have to race the chosen warriors of Seiryuu to the Shinzaho of Genbu. 

"And I cannot protect them…" the emperor felt a lump form in his throat. Being who he was, he could not leave the throne anymore. Chichiri's skills were more needed for their quest, and with war imminent and it's threat growing by the day, the monk was certainly in no position to give such orders. No. It was best that he stay behind. Even if it meant possibly saying goodbye. Until the monk contacted him with the mirror, he would have no clue of the safety of the others. A feeling deep within his stomach told him he would never see some of them again. But who?

"Oh, lighten up, Hotohori! We'll all come back safe and sound! You'll see! I promise!" Miaka had sworn, still as chipper and bright as always, even after the events with Tamahome's family. And she did have his sword. He hoped it would prove useful.

"Miaka…be safe…" a tear slid down his cheek as he embraced the teddy bear compulsively. 

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I'm still recalling things you said to make me feel alright 

I carried them with me today, Now 

As I lay me down to sleep 

This I pray 

That you will hold me dear 

Though I'm far away 

I'll whisper your name into the sky 

And I will wake up happy

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The pain shot through his back, catching him by surprise. Hotohori blinked as the papers his advisors had handed him regarding the current war situation slipped through his fingers to the floor, a single drop of blood from a paper-cut accompanying them. The cut was to be ignored. What had that feeling been? The feeling of something being torn away from him, from his soul? The feeling of dread deep inside him resurfaced. Chichiri had spoken with him only that past evening. Everyone was alright. Miaka was safe, and they had succeeded in chasing away a Seiryuu attacker. They knew where the Shinzaho was. Nothing could go wrong, the monk had assured him. But now, something was wrong. 

"Majesty…" the advisors choked. Hotohori blinked, finally noticing the papers scattered across the floor, mingled with a single drop of blood. 

"Ah…what was that feeling?" he whispered to himself. He prayed it wasn't what he thought. 

~~~

"No…" the lump caught in his throat again as Hotohori stared down at the mirror. "Chichiri, no…it can't be true! I order you to tell me it isn't true!"

Chichiri only bowed his head in depression. There was no denying it from anyone. It was a time to mourn. Miaka was inside the shrine, retrieving the Shinzaho. Outside, Nuriko's corpse lay, cold and alone under the snow topping the mountain. The first of the Suzaku seishi was dead. 

"We all kinda wish it had been any other one of us. He was a great guy…" Chichiri gave the impression of being tired. Maybe from comforting the others, maybe from burying an amazing person. Even across the mirror, he could hear Chiriko sniffling, worn out from crying. 

"Chichiri…tell me….he didn't die alone…tell me someone was there with him…" Hotohori couldn't stop one tear from escaping. More would come, but not now. Chichiri shook his head.

"Tamahome and Miaka were with him. He…passed on peacefully in Tamahome's arms. He was happy."

Hotohori smiled softly for a moment while more tears freed themselves, wetting his cheeks for the waterfalls to follow.

"I wish…I could have been there too."

"Chichiriiiiiiii!!!" Miaka's familiar perky voice called out. "We've got the Shinzaho and we can go now!"

Hotohori wiped his eyes of the tears.

"She seems happy herself."

"Pride, your majesty. Would you like to speak to her?"  
"No…not at the moment…later, yes."

"I wish Hotohori were here with us. We can't celebrate our victory without him!" Miaka piped up in the background. His majesty smiled widely hearing her voice as Chichiri replaced his mask.

"I'll make sure she speaks with you once we've had time to recover no da."

With that, the mirror converted back to what it was. Hotohori's face, red from the tears, smiled back at him as the water began to flow again.

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I wonder why I feel so high 

Though I am not above the sorrow 

Heavy hearted 

Till you call my name 

And it sounds like church bells 

Or the whistle of a train 

On a summer evening 

I'll run to meet you 

Barefoot barely breathing 

As I lay me down to sleep 

This I pray 

That you will hold me dear 

Though I'm far away 

I'll whisper your name into the sky 

And I will wake up happy 

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The rain was finally stopping. It had been raining for days on end, on the day he had met her, Houki, the other woman he had fallen in love with. It had been an interesting meeting. At first he thought it was Nuriko, back from the grave to haunt him and stalk him like he had in life. However, this was surely a woman, and not Nuriko, as the beauty mark was missing from below her eye. As she apologized profusely for running into him, he took her in, remembering Nuriko. Man or woman, he'd had a special place for the crossdresser. It wasn't 'love', but more of a deep trust, a stronger bond of friendship. That bond, mixed with the emotions from losing that friend, the pressure for an heir, and the yearning to be with his priestess had formed a love for Nuriko's female double. And now, she was his wife, his empress. Hotohori could only wonder how the others would react to her. He smiled as the last drop of rain fell from the sky. The sun was now out, beaming in full glory, ready to do it's job with bringing new plants into the world. Spring was perfect for that. 

"HOTOHORI!!" 

The emperor gasped as a figure slammed into his side in an embrace. Managing to look down, he spied a familiar patch of brown hair, brown outfit…Miaka was back.

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It's not too near for me 

Like a flower I need the rain 

Though it's not clear to me 

Every season has its change 

And I will see you 

When the sun comes out again 

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It was over. Everything was over. The war was ended, but it was pointless. People had died for no reason except Nakago's selfish desires. Miaka and Tamahome had returned to her world, and all but himself, Chichiri, and Tasuki were dead. To his own grief, the list would be shortened by one name: his own. Nakago had dealt the final blow. The air around him was getting cold as Chichiri and Tasuki ran up beside him. Tasuki was crying already. Asking if he was okay wasn't worth it. They already knew. It was unfortunate; Houki was only three months into her pregnancy. For the kingdom, he prayed it would be a boy. A beautiful, strong boy to care for his mother and pass on the story of his father, the celestial warrior of Suzaku and late emperor of Konan.

"Hoto…Hotohori?" a voice called inside his head. Hotohori would have been surprised, had he not been used to such surprising things from Miaka. He expected nothing less.

"Miaka…" he forced himself to say. "You are…still safe?"

"Don't talk…" her words were choked. She knew as well. Had she called Mitsukake when he gave his life force to heal everyone in the palace? It mattered not. She was there. His hand shakily moved to the folds of his armor, removing a piece of paper. The eight of them, the last time all of them had been together. All of them smiling. Miaka had been right; a picture DID preserve memories. Amazingly, the flimsy image had survived Nakago's attack. 

"Miaka…be safe…against Nakago…be strong. I…still…love you…" he whispered. The hand holding the picture fell limply against his chest. _Miaka…_

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As I lay me down to sleep 

This I pray 

That you will hold me dear 

Though I'm far away 

I'll whisper your name into the sky 

And I will wake up happy 

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Heh…sad one, eh? I thought the song was kinda fitting for his relationship with Miaka. If you don't think so, go ahead and think I'm insane. I wrote this on my free time and you just spent yours reading this. So nyeh =P. Anyway, the song's "As I Lay Me Down" by Sophie B. Hawkins, if ya wanted to know. And if you need to know if I won it, go read the almighty disclaimer in the Bio.


End file.
